


A Reason to want Hell

by Moon_Crow



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Child Abuse, Family Feels, Hanatamago Family, Heavy Angst, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names, Historical Hetalia, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sealand is an interesting character now. fuck you, Self-Harm, Sve isnt abusive dw, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:49:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26356759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moon_Crow/pseuds/Moon_Crow
Summary: Sealand was asked something no one in his kind had ever been asked before they were thrust into the life that they were living, and he needed a good answer.
Relationships: England & Sealand (Hetalia), Finland/Sweden (Hetalia), Kugelmugel/Ladonia (Hetalia), Sealand & Sweden (Hetalia)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	1. Why though?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sealand needs a good answer to a good question.

Peter hadn't really had an answer to that, because he was never asked.

None of them were ever asked.

That's why he was a little put-off when such a question put him in the spotlight on just any other rainy afternoon.

"Why  _ do _ you want to be a real country?"

Peter looked up from his game and turned to Emil, who was sprawled on the couch and had traded his headphone’s peace just to ask such a question.

“Huh?”

“You, like, why  _ do _ you want to be a country?”

“I don’t get it.”

“What’s your reason to want to be recognized as a true country?”

Peter pouted in thought for a moment, before answering (rather enthusiastically), “To be able to kick Jerk-land’s butt!”

Emil snorted back a laugh, “No but for real, why?”

“Why does it matter?” Peter asked, turning around to face him, cocking his head to the side out of habit

“Well there must be some reason you’d want to doom yourself to this cursed existence,” Emil shrugged, giving him a curious look “I mean like, why would you want to be trapped in an immortality that abides to the whole ‘humanity controls us’ and the ‘kill or be killed’ way of life.”

Peter put down his game and looked up in thought, searching for the right answer to capture everything in his head.


	2. Because I need to know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sealand has yet to know what everything they've done has amounted to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during WW2

Hell.

This was hell.

Peter was in hell

Smoke framed the blood-red sky, whispered last words echoed throughout the barren battlefield. 

Once a place full of human anger and life was now a wasteland of corpses, discarded ammunition, and bloodstained debris.

And Peter, the child soldier, stood in the middle of it all, as one of the few who survived. His uniform torn, covered in blood and gunpowder, his hand just barely holding on to his gun.

The sounds of the clean-up and crying became white noise as he stared down at just one specific lifeless body, its permanent horrified face mirrored his own.

He recognized one outside sound, and that was the sound of footsteps approaching him from behind. 

Just by that, he knew it was his brothers, William of Wales and Arthur of England, coming to pick him up.

Arthur looked around the mess of a battlefield with a neutral expression, "Well done, soldier." he said in his ever-so cool voice "Come on, there is more you have to do."

William threw his brother a dirty glare, "Is that all you have to say, Arthur?"

Arthur scoffed, arching a brow at him, "What do you expect me to say to the boy?"

"A few seconds of showing human empathy to Peter wouldn't kill you-" William snapped, but was quickly interrupted

"We have to keep moving," Arthur said, firmer this time, not even giving his brother a look as he stared at the young boy's in front of them 

"We're needed back home, Ivan wishes an audience; he's insisting he needs to employ Peter to have a chance at defeating Finnish forces at his front. What good will we do fixing damage that'll just happen again."

William glared at him, chewing at his lip as he did. Having no answer, he merely scoffed and averted his gaze 

Arthur sighed, "Come along, Peter, there's more you need to do-"

"What was it?"

The two older brothers suddenly jolted, not because of the out-of-context remark, but because of how cold and grim the voice that asked it sounded.

They looked at Peter again, still standing a few feet away, his body limp and his shoulders rose and slumped with every breath. "Pardon?"

"I know whatever you say now won't matter later, because I'll have to go through this all over again," Peter said, "But at least tell me something."

And he stood aside. William gasped and Arthur literally took a step back as they saw the horrifying corpse Peter had been looking at all this time.

Peter didn't look up from the ground as he asked, "Do you know his name?"

William and Arthur shared a look but said nothing.

"His name is Thomas, he's my friend in the trenches," Peter said, adding on, "And if you read my letters, he's the one who keeps me from getting harassed."

"He's the third child and second son in a family of four. He was studying to be a doctor before the drafting, to follow in his mother's footsteps.

"After the war, Thomas said he was going to go home to his boyfriend in Bristol, and they were going to have a pretend-wedding and asked me to be there. They planned to grow old together, probably adopt a dog or two along the way."

And then he said nothing, just staring down grimly. The colors of his emotions overlapping each other to make the dark voice and aura he had now

The two older brothers listened, thinking he had more to say, but after a while of silence, Arthur decided to break it with a single deadpan word, "So?"

William elbowed Arthur enough to make him stumble a little.

Peter sighed shakily and finally lifted his head to meet their gazes. "So I want you to tell me what was the price of the life that he threw away," he said, his voice breaking a little as he added, gesturing around to the corpses around them, "The lives that all these people threw away."

A gasp left William's lips as he scrambled for the right words, intimidated by the bags beneath his little brother's troubled eyes.

But Arthur wasted no more than a pause to speak, "Their lives will be worth world peace when this war is over." he answered in a monotonous, firm tone

"World peace?" Peter scoffed a laugh, his eyes glimmering with tears as he began talking animatedly, "Of course, young lives are spent so that the world can go back to hurting and pricing the worth of certain people's lives because of old philosophies by old men, what a  _ totally _ fair exchange!"

As his voice raised, both William and Arthur reached for the guns on their belts. "Stand down, soldier," they warned in chorus

"Tell me! C'mon! I want to know!" Peter screamed as tears started falling down his cheeks, "What the fuck is everyone dying for!?"

Silence. A different kind of silence, now that people were giving them glances.

Peter's body trembled with every shaky breath, his fatigue making him let go of his gun and get down on his knees. He started crying harshly, his whines and whimpers echoing everywhere.

"Tell me," he said between heavy sobs, as he looked at Thomas's outstretched hand and entwined his fingers with his own "Tell me,  _ please _ ! I  _ have _ to know! I  _ need _ to know!"

"What is the cost all these good  _ and _ bad people have laid down  _ their _ lives for?!"

William said nothing.

"What did  _ Thomas _ die for?!"

Arthur said nothing.

"What am  _ I _ giving up  _ my _ life for?!"

No one said anything.

Hell.

This was hell.

Peter was in hell.

They were all in hell.


	3. Because I have to live to remember them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sealand realizes, if all goes wrong, he might have to end up being the last one standing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set in 2015  
> both Ladonia and Kugelmugel use they/them pronouns

The night was cold and the city was at peace. The house was quiet and warmly lit. All bags packed, they were all dressed, it was time to go home.

Peter lets out an early sigh of relief. As much as he adored Hubert, he had to admit it hasn’t been an easy week.

Berwald and Elizabeth helped (bless them) by being the chaotic adults that they are and spicing up the otherwise sour mood that brought the two families in Budapest, but it hasn’t been enough.

Because how would you feel if you were slapped in the face with the cold reality that your immortality and invincibility isn’t guaranteed?

Because that’s exactly what happened to Kugelmugel, or rather, Hubert, as they can only be known now.

Hubert seemed fine. They had moved in with his Aunt Elizabeth in her house in Budapest, got into a new school, and sign up for all sorts of classes Mr. Austria wouldn’t normally let them apply to.

It helped that the other micronations made an effort to check in and visit them this past month since his dissolution was announced, or so they all hoped.

What happened sobered the micronation gang up to the reality that they weren’t established countries, and the nationhood that promises their immortality and invincibility can be easily taken away.

But not Peter.

Peter was sobered to another reality.

Especially as he watched his sibling hug Hubert tightly, and he knew with the shake of their shoulders and the strain in their voice, they were crying.

“I’ll visit whenever I can, I’ll call every day, I’ll ask Dad to take me to world meetings so when Aunt Eliza takes you, we can hang out,” Erland croaked out

Hubert chuckled, patting their friend’s back soothingly, “My friend, I turned mortal, I’m not dying, I have a lifetime.”

“W-Well, we’ll never know tomorrow, okay?” Erland grumbled, burying their face in the crook of their neck, “S-So shut up and let me do this!”

Though Peter laughed at his sibling’s seemingly childish clinginess to their friend, he understood wholly. It’s been this way since their family arrived in Budapest.

Erland didn’t dare lose sight of Hubert. They hung out in the entirety of Budapest, mostly just the two of them, holding hands, taking pictures, fooling around as kids. They even shared a room during their stay there.

(And to make it clear, Peter wasn’t jealous. He had just as much fun watching his Aunt Elizabeth bully/terrorize his father for an entire week, maybe even more fun)

Peter knew why Erland was the way they were at the moment, but he said nothing of it.

The door opened, Berwald and Elizabeth walked in.

“Uber is here, it’s time to go.” Elizabeth sighed, smiling sadly at Hubert, still trapped in Erland’s embrace “Said your good-byes?”

“Still saying, it seems,” Berwald said cooly “Don’t worry, I can always bribe the driver to stay for an hour if they need it.”

“You can even offer a  _ job _ ,” Elizabeth smirked, “The driver is hot, young, and looks like he’d bang you on the spot.”

The three kids among them reacted comically. Berwald elbowed Elizabeth, who was giggling at how flushed he was. “You’re unbelievable,  Héderváry.”

The two adults talked amongst themselves again, and Peter’s attention diverted back to his sibling and his friend.

Erland pulled away but kept close, wiping away their tears with one hand and holding Hubert’s hand with the other.

“I’ll call.”

“I know. Send memes too.”

“You don’t stop taking art requests, won’t you?’

“No, as long as you don’t stop bombarding me with song recommendations.”

“Still with the multiplayer games, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

Hubert paused from their train of thought. They smiled and leaned in, pressing a loving kiss on Erland’s cheek.

“I could never,” they said, “I’d like to spend my limited lifetime with the people I love.”

Peter felt a pang in his heart when he heard that.

“It’s time to go, kids, we need to be an hour before the flight,” Berwald announced

Erland gasped, looking up at him, “Can’t Aunt Eliza and Hubert come with us to wave good-bye?”

“Kiddo, we talked about this,” Berwald frowned, placing a hand on their shoulder, “Hubert has music classes tomorrow, they need to go to bed.”

“I’d come but I have work to finish.” Elizabeth added, “Don’t worry, Erland, I’ll make sure Hubert and I stay in touch.”

More honking noises came from outside. Eliza gave Berwald a look. Berwald kneed the back of her foot. They were more like children than the actual children with them.

Erland and Hubert looked at each other once more.

Hubert turned to Peter and grinned, “This goes without saying, but you  _ will _ make sure your sibling doesn’t sulk forever, yes?”

Peter gave a thumbs up, “You can count on me protecting your partner.”

Hubert and Erland normally would protest being suggested as romantic partners, but at the moment they didn’t, Peter somewhat felt glad.

They walked outside with the two adults, Erland and Hubert still holding hands.

One last look, or so it seemed. It almost looked like their faces were too close when Peter looked.

Peter walked past them but paused to look back. “Erland, we have to go.”

Erland slowly walked backward, slowly letting their hand slip away from Hubert’s hand. And when they did let go, they bolted for the car and hopped in the backseat right away with a red face. Hubert gave a hearty laugh.

Peter was about to join his sibling when Hubert stopped him.

“Peter,” he turned around and faced them, who beamed at him, “This goes without saying, but you’ll take care of them, won’t you?”

His heart skipped a beat and he almost hesitated with his “Yes.”

Hubert sighed in relief, coming into to give Peter a short, tight hug, “I’ll see you, my friend.”

And with that, and a few more hijinks featuring his Aunt Eliza being the funniest wingman alive, the Oxenstierna family was on their road home.

Peter stared out the window the entire trip to the airport, he didn't even notice it when Erland suddenly put their head on his shoulder and began to snore. One thought was on his mind.

He remembered it clearly, that conversation he accidentally walked in on that one drunken night in London his father and (some of) his brothers experienced together.

Between the hics and the giggles, William's words were what reeled in Peter to listen.

**_“Let’s be real, out of all the main micronation gang, Peter has the biggest shot at becoming a real country.”_ **

Peter remembered confiding about it to Hubert at some point within the week, which is what changed the meaning of their words.

The “them” wasn’t just singular for Erland.

Them as in everyone.

Peter focused on the reflection of his window, looking at his sibling sleeping peacefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes this was totally an excuse for me to hint at single dad!Sweden and some angsty LadKug


	4. Because I want to understand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sealand doesn't understand England's undying and immoral loyalty to the leaders of humankind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Referenced bigotry.
> 
> Set in 1958

Peter stormed in the office, still half awake and covered in bandages from the latest failed operation. He slammed the door shut and locked it, stomping up to Arthur’s desk.

Arthur wasn’t looking up, still focused on the work spread before him on the desk. 

It wasn’t until an unwelcomed open file was slapped right in front of him did he sigh and look up at the furious young boy in front of his desk.

“Im Yong-Soo of North Korea,” Peter growled

“And what about him?” Arthur asked, but when he glanced down and saw the file, his eyes widened

He took it in his hands and looked at Peter, “Where did you get this?”

“You told me he wanted to wipe out half of humanity because it was the order of his government,” Peter snapped “The same thing the UN told the world, that's why you want him shot down, that's why you're sending me and most of the Personified World after him!"

Arthur looked at the boy, then at the file, then arched the brow “And?”

“Half of that isn’t true!”

“So?”

“You lied to me!”

“Does it matter?”

“It matters that I at least know what I’m laying down my life for, and _you_ know that!”

Arthur opened his mouth, but no argument came out. He scoffed and leaned forward, glaring at Peter

“Are you here to justify Nor Kor’s actions, soldier?” he roared “Because if you are, I don’t mind labeling you as a traitor right away, and hand you over to the UN to do god knows what.”

It was Peter’s turn to be speechless. He squeaked a little and his heart skipped a beat. When he did, Arthur’s lip twitched a little like a smile

Peter sank back to standing upright and firm, he looked down and mumbled “Tell me something, at least…”

Arthur gave him a look, then closed the file, tossing it back to his desk with a sigh, “If it’s gonna get you to shut up, then go ahead and ask.” he said, leaning back in his chair.

Silence.

“Nor Kor…” Peter whispered, “He’s just acting on a desire the Personified World has, isn’t he?”

Arthur watched Peter stand still, speak in a still voice, and something flickered in his eyes.

“He wants to kill the half of humanity, made up of privileged idiots and pretentious brats, who exploit and harass those they deem below them.”

“He wants to rule the nation he represents, control his fate as a Nation Spirit, not bound to the desires of whoever sits on the biggest chair of the table.”

“He wants to do all that because he’s tired of being forced to do evil by his government, he didn’t want humans to say if he could see his brother or not.”

Silence again.

Arthur waved a hand and scoffed, “Your point being?”

“You have that desire too, don’t you?” Peter asked with a wince, glancing up and shrinking right away when Arthur’s glare sharpened at such a question

Peter swallowed thickly as he added on, “I’m not saying it’s righteous of him to kill half of humanity, but if you were in his place, you’d do it too, won’t you?”

“No.”

Arthur didn’t even hesitate.

Peter’s heart began to beat against his bones. Repercussions be damned, he thought, as he took a deep breath and shouted at his handler for a brother:

“Aren’t you tired of living by the orders of whoever rules the country you represent!?”

Arthur folded his hands in front of him as he looked down while being scolded. Eyes closed, taking in every passionately angry word that fell out of Peter’s lips

“Aren’t you tired of lugging around the corpses that built your nation? How can you walk around with the weight of history crushing your shoulders? Aren’t you upset mortals get to decide what you should do and what you should think and who you should associate with!?”

Arthur took a deep breath and looked at Peter coldly. “No.” he answered again, “Duty above-”

“Stop with that!” Peter cried out, actually covering his ears

His words got stuck in his throat. 

“You don’t understand this yet but,” Arthur mumbled, looking solemnly at his folded hands, “If he wins, if the system changes, all the crimes I’ve committed, the wrongs I’ve done to get where I am, it’ll all have been for naught.”

“So you hold your own bloody history above the lives of millions!?” Peter spat out in disgust

Arthur looked back at him, “Maybe.”

“W-What…”

“It took everything we’ve got to earn our place in this cruel world, and I can’t have mine slip out of my blood-stained fingers.” Arthur said, echoing the memory playing in his head “I put my duty to myself and my people above my morals and desire to live a better life, to be who I am now.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “ _Some of your people_ ,” he corrected “Some of your people who are white, straight, or whatever the fuck-!”

“Stop this.”

“I’ve met men who went through the same thing but think differently! Sweden, Denmark, Austria, Japan-!”

“Well, you wouldn’t understand!”

“Then _make me_ understand!”

Arthur screamed and jolted on his feet, slamming his hand down on the desk. “ _It’s because we live in a cruel world, Peter!_ ”

Silence, _again_. Peter noticed the tears in Arthur’s eyes, and his confusion grew like the swell in his heart.

“Arthur?”

“Get out of my sight before I fucking kill you.”

And the anger returned.

Peter took the file he brought with him out the door, stomping and frowning like he did when he first entered the office.

But he stayed by the hall long enough to hear Arthur crying.


	5. Because I need to be there when it gets said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A thousand-and-a-half-year-old promise to fulfill an overdue vision of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in the distant future, when humankind is in a better place and the whole world is at peace.

From a distance, Tino watched his husband talk and laugh, splashing around the seashore with his knees deep in the water.

Berwald screamed about how the world is better, how humanity has been saved from its own greed and hatred for itself, how the planet has healed, how every one of their kind has reached their happily ever after.

But Tino wasn't watching fondly. His brows were furrowed, his lips were pursed, and his heart ached in his chest.

After another few minutes, Berwald finally stopped to catch his breath, crouching with his hands on his wet knees, his polo shirt had droplets trickled over it.

Tino walked over to where he stood, just a few feet away from the water and from his husband.

There was another breathy laugh, another round of screaming, that Tino stopped quickly before it could go on.

"Berwald, dear, that's enough," he said firmly

He looked over his shoulder, meeting his husband's frown. He sighed and stood upright, turning to him fully.

It hurt, but Tino looked him in the eye as he reminded him, "It's been an hour, my love, we have a flight to prepare for tonight."

"Just a few more minutes?" he pouted

Tino shook his head.

Berwald sighed and looked at his husband, then turned his head to the horizon, his glasses reflecting the sun-kissed morning sky. 

Tino knew at once what he was thinking of, he's always known, it was one of the very few things that would prompt Berwald to act as childish and free as he did.

"It's been quite a millennia," Berwald said thoughtfully, lolling his head back to look at where dawn met dusk above him "And I only get to say this  _ now _ ."

Tino smiled, "What did they make you promise?"

Berwald chuckled and walked over to stand by his husband.

"Well?"

"Well, the actions were added in on the last minute."

"Of course it was. Hence the splashing around and laughing and acting crazy,"

Tino snorted mid-sentence at the imagery of the two kids telling him that.

The couple stayed there for a moment, watching the sun slowly rise to greet a new day.

"Peter said I should be the one to tell him when everything everywhere actually becomes alright for everyone," he said, "And Erland added that I should tell them that too, but I have to act insane and expressive."

The ache in his heart hit differently with hearing their names, and Tino felt tears in his eyes as his instincts promoted him to entwine their fingers together

"It's been one and a half thousand years, and you still remember that?"

"It's the least I could do since I couldn't secure their nationhood."

"Do you think they heard all of that?" 

Berwald turned his head as Tino asked, watching a tear fall down his cheek.

He smiled and held him close, "They did, you know those idiots probably visit often just to see if I'd actually do this."

Tino sighed out a laugh against his husband's chest, "That's true."

The wind blew hard where it wasn't there at first, and the water rose enough to touch their feet, but only once. They knew what it meant.

"You heard your father, kids," Tino said, "We're gonna be okay, you can leave us for good now.

A minute passed, they finally felt it truly was just them at the seaside.


	6. Because I want to watch him grow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sealand got to see a change where it should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in 2013

Arthur is a jerk.

Not only Peter knew that, the whole world did, all of humanity did.

Arthur as in  _ Arthur _ Arthur, or Arthur as in  _ England _ Arthur? 

Arthur as in "trigger a civil war between the Personified World because of my 'duty above morality' philosophy as a personification"? 

Or Arthur as in "not stop my own people from creating the concept of modern racism, and personally kill about half all the Ancients and their people because of it"?

Both. Though outside the circle of the Personified World, all of humanity believes one is worse than the other.

To his credit though, at least Arthur was aware of that, and he's trying to be better than his and his people's past.

That became evident when Peter came over to London to be with his brothers. 

William insisted he celebrate with them after the Same-Sex Marriage Act of 2013 was passed in the UK, and Allistor promised he'd let Peter drink himself wasted if he came (though Peter kept that to himself because god forbid his dad found out)

Peter hadn't been home since getting adopted (bought from eBay), but he didn't remember the Kirkland household having an entire bookshelf dedicated to history books.

They had just arrived that afternoon after Arthur picked him up from the airport. Right away, Peter pointed at the large bookshelf and asked, "What's that?"

"What's what?"

"That, I don't remember that being here."

"A lot can change in seven months."

"Pretty sure not that much."

Arthur paused from taking off his coat for a moment as he saw that Peter was pointing at the shelf next to the flat-screen TV. "Ah, I see."

Peter walked over to it, looking at the collection of books thoughtfully, "So many history books, it's only been seven months."

"I asked the others to give me copies of their history books, ones they think are most accurate," Arthur scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest "You won't believe how much trouble I went through to get Alfred to take my request seriously."

"Why?"

"He just mailed me money with a note that says 'sorry for the tea but lmao no regrets' and I almost wanted to kill him."

"Is that why Matthew cooked, like, 50 pancakes and accidentally mailed them to Allistor's house?"

"That too."

Peter snorted down his laughter, but his attention to the books didn't waver. Books from India, Brunei, Australia, Sudan, Kenya, New Zealand, even some from their own brothers … others in different languages that he couldn't understand.

"I don't get it," Peter finally said, tearing his eyes away from the books

Arthur shrugged, "I wouldn't know those languages either, but I printed the flags to paste on the covers so I don't get lost-"

"No, but like," Peter chuckled light-heartedly, giving him a curious look, "You hate history books, you get squeamish around them, and now you have them in plain sight in the house."

Arthur pursed his lips, looking at Peter, then at the shelves. There was an emotion in his eyes, Peter rarely met Arthur's gaze, but he could see how evident it was that he did feel something, and it gave him an emotion he wasn’t sure what to call.

“Arthur-?”

“What you said when you sold yourself up on the internet, it hit hard.”

Peter gasped a little, his heart skipping a beat as the events of that night flashed before his eyes.

**_“You bury away your mistakes and act like you had no part in this bullshit that’s ruining thousands of people’s lives, lives like mine! You changed, but fuck, at least acknowledged what you changed from! You healed right away but couldn’t care less to grow from your mistake, you bigotted fuck!”_ **

**_“You hide behind the excuse of just doing what you were told, and even then, FUCK, could you have at least accepted that you were a wrong bigot at some point in your life instead of being a bitch-ass hypocrite with your charities and demonstrations!”_ **

But Arthur was smiling, at him, at the bookshelf, at the flags that hung above it.

**_“Duty above heart my ass, you had no heart to begin with, you fucking jerk!”_ **

“Be sure to get me a copy of your history book, I’ll put it next to Alfred’s monopoly money.” Arthur snorted, walking away to some remote part of the house.

And that’s when Peter understood what he was feeling inside.

Pride.

He was proud of his brother.

He still had a long way to go, but this was something, a great start.

Arthur was a jerk.

Was.


	7. Because I want to heal with him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sealand isn't alone with his pain, and he doesn't want to be alone with feeling it, but he doesn't want to be alone when he gets better from it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set a few months before the present (Chapter 1)

Peter didn't ask that he would spend the first few minutes of his birthday sitting limply on his bathroom floor, a bloodstained cutter in one hand, and a letter from home in the other.

He didn't want to be there, he didn't want to feel what he was feeling, but the thoughts caged his breath in his chest, and before he knew it, he was making cuts again.

One cut for the people he killed.

One cut for the people he disappointed.

One cut for the people he hurt.

One cut just to punish himself.

One cut to drive in the fact he shouldn't have survived.

The thoughts disappeared right after the last echo in his head: 

**_"You don't deserve to move on."_ **

The thoughts were gone, leaving his body an empty, limp shell as he bled on the bathroom floor.

What he thought was static was actually a voice.

What he thought was just moving colors was actually him being carried and put down on his bedroom cushioned armchair. 

What he thought was his body slowly getting numb was actually the gentle tap of cotton on his skin and the touch of a person.

Peter's head was lolled down the entire time Berwald spent cleaning up the fresh cuts under the dim light of his bedroom lamp.

He sat stiffly with the tense atmosphere weighing on his shoulders as his father held his hand and dabbed cotton on his wounds.

Though his soothing nursing and tender hold meant to alleviate the pain, it did nothing but bring tears to Peter's eyes.

"It hurts."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"The bandage itches."

"It'll pass."

After a minute or two, Peter sighed as Berwald finally let go of his now bandaged hand. He was glad for the silence, not bombarding him with questions right away.

"It’s okay now.

The edge of exhaustion in Berwald's voice was normal, but it hit differently at that moment, so much that Peter began sobbing because of it.

Berwald made a whine of confusion as Peter started shaking where he sat, tears streaming down his face that he desperately tried to wipe away with his other hand

"Peter, baby, please talk to me," Berwald cooed, cupping Peter's cheeks in his hands, "I don't like seeing you like this."

A tinge of guilt echoed in his body, mirroring the remorse he already felt as he croaked out, "I don't get to move on." he paused to cough dryly "This safe space, this family, therapy and good friends… I shouldn't have it."

"Kiddo, why do you say that?" Berwald frowned, asking as he wiped away the tears on his cheeks with his thumbs

"You would know, don't you?" he sighed "This voice in your head… all the things you've done and couldn't do, the people you wish you could've saved and treated differently, all that blood on your conscience…."

Peter glanced down at his scarred forearms and looked away shamefully. "I don't deserve to heal," he mumbled through gritted teeth, "I don't deserve to be happy. I don't deserve to live another year."

There it was, everything was out in the open. Peter wanted to regret being vulnerable at that moment, but he couldn't.

He was already so tired, fatigued by blocking out the voices in his head. So he sat there, limp, eyes closed, like the corpse he so wanted to be.

"Peter, look…"

Peter pricked up and looked at Berwald, before looking down at his bandaged arm, alerted by the warm sensation in his hand.

It was one of Berwald's hands clasped in his own, and his sleeves were rolled up to reveal the scars on his forearm. A tiny gasp left Peter's lips as he looked at them, more tears falling down his cheeks as he realized something.

"I get it, baby, I really do," Berwald smiled sadly, looking at Peter as he spoke, "So you have to believe me that when I say you deserve to heal, to be happy, to get better."

"We didn't ask to start off the way we did, we can't take back what we've done, even if we really wanted to, but that doesn't erase our pain. You're hurt, Peter, and that’s okay."

"That's why you're doing therapy, that's why you're here, to heal. You deserve to feel, you deserve to heal; I will make sure you get your right to be human despite it all, because if anyone deserves to get better, it's you."

Peter’s bottom lip trembled as he threw himself into Berwald’s arms, though his tears kept pouring, he didn’t dare whimper more.

"Dad?"

"Yes, baby?"

"We're gonna be okay, won't we?"

We.

Peter  _ and _ Berwald.

Because if Peter judged those scars right with a glance, they were as fresh as his own.

Berwald chuckled, rubbing his back soothingly, "Yes baby, we're going to be okay, I promise.”


	8. Why not?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sealand gave his answer, but it wasn't as satisfying as Iceland had hoped it'd be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connected to present, chapter 1

“Because why not?”

Emil was taken aback by his confident, enthusiastic answer, and how easily Peter returned to his game right after saying that.

“Oh,” he said, looking away and picking up his headphones again

“Why do you sound so sad?” Peter asked, giving him a look “Why does it matter that I answered that, and why do you even care about my answer in the first place?”

“Nothing.” Emil huffed, putting his headphones and looking at the distance.

Peter left it at that.

Emil wasn’t staring blankly somewhere off though, he was looking at the reflection on the mirror over the fireplace’s mantel.

It was the rest of their family in the kitchen. Tino and Erland were making cake batter, though it was obvious Tino was doing more of the work, while chattering with Lukas who was cutting some meat next to him.

Erland was more interested in encouraging their Uncle Magnus, who was fooling around and irritating their father by dancing around with Kukkamuna in his arms. 

The more Magnus danced, the more Berwald inched the spoon of sauce closer and closer overhead of Magnus’ prized blond hair.

Emil sighed.

**_Because I’m looking for a reason to want this life none of us had a choice to live._ **


End file.
